Chapter Eleven

Not a dog person

Thirty minutes before Harry's big dinner, the invited guests start gathering; Apparating in one by one or stepping out of the Floo. The Malfoys and Severus wait in the sitting room, having drinks before the small-scale banquet put together by Harry and Narcissa.

Fred and George have settled on the sofa, trying to convince Severus of their brilliance and their talent in potion-making. They have numerous products with them to show around, and even though they are not allowed to prank anyone, the twins still plan to cause some havoc. When Lucius steps closer to inspect their products, he says, "I loathe to admit this but you may be smarter than I previously believed you to be."

Fred and George grin and high-five each other. They both give Lucius wide smirks.

Severus drawls out with venom. "As if they need more encouragement. Their heads are big enough."

"Don't be so sour, love," Narcissa says, gliding over and twisting her arm around Snape's. "Those boys are very clever. I never thought I'd say such a thing about a Weasley, let alone two."

Severus harrumphs and keeps up his scowl. But he doesn't exactly argue. The twins are not regular Weasleys. There is something about them that just seems a tad too dark, although both the Weasley line and Prewett line have been considered Light for several centuries.

"We actually loved Potions, you know. Most of our products require more than just passable potion-making skills, and we make everything ourselves. We don't trust anyone else near our creations."

"You have to admit that we were pretty awesome, Professor."

"I will admit to no such thing!" Severus grits out.

Fred croons. "Yeah, you love us, Professor."

Sirius arrives, for once wearing pristine wizarding robes, and greets the others, but reserves his most intense greeting for the blond wizard. Knowing perfectly well that Lucius doesn't really like it when he is grabbed and groped in public—not to mention snogged in full view of others—Sirius smirks and slides his arms around the wizard. Lucius does not protest, but his silver eyes hold a warning. Sirius better not attempt to move any further. He only gets one of those.

Sirius relents and just keeps one arm around Lucius' waist, but he still has a spark of mischief in his eyes. He is going to keep infuriating the snooty Malfoy, but for now, he wants a drink. He goes to fix himself one when the Dark Lord walks in, wearing a very acid smile.

"Welcome to my home," Tom says, but it sounds forced; as if someone is standing behind him and poking him in the back with the tip of a sword.

Severus is on the verge of snorting, but Narcissa's elbow gently jabbing him in the ribs is a clear warning. The Dark Lord is in a foul mood and liable to cast the Cruciatus without blinking. They all know that this dinner is Harry's idea; therefore, the Dark Lord had been manoeuvred into agreeing—and he is not happy about it.

Harry walks into the room just moments later, wearing a big smile. He spots Fred and George but no other redheads he considers family. "Bill isn't coming, is he?"

Fred shrugs. "Too many Slytherins in one place."

"I reckon he's still upset about Ron," says George, "but he doesn't blame you; if anything, he's pissed at Ron for being such an evil little git."

"He's probably sitting at home, brooding in silence." Fred nods.

Harry seems in thought, going over a plan in his head. He wants Bill to take part in his idea of a family dinner. As he settles on it, he calls Sirius over. The Animagus frowns but complies. He follows Harry into the hallway. "What's going on? Did the dinner get cancelled?"

"Could you possibly sound more excited?"

Sirius smirks, certainly not sorry for his excitement. "I can certainly try."

"Never mind." Harry rolls his eyes and says, "I need you to do something for me. I need you to go to Bill's—"

"Pup, I get what you're trying to do, but don't you think Bill has had enough of us for now? He supports you, but he has lost half of his family to Dumbledore, two are suddenly Dark, one of his siblings is dead and another as good as—all I'm saying is that maybe you should leave him alone for a while. You'll do him no favours by making him stay in the same room as Voldemort and Lucius; you know that both of them played a part in his sister's death. Let him get used to the situation and when he's ready, he'll contact you."

Harry's expression changes and he seems to consider it. "I'm being selfish."

"No, not selfish," Sirius tells the teen. "Just let him think it over. He'll be here soon enough to collect his brother. You should talk to him then."

"Since when do you make sense, Siri?"

The Animagus barks out a laugh, "It's known to happen. I can be a very sensible wizard if the situation calls for it."

"I get what you're saying, but I wanted this to be a family thing, you know."

"You'll have other holidays to turn into a family event, just not this Christmas. Who knows, maybe he'll agree to attend next year."

ooo

Harry isn't pleased about Bill missing the dinner, but he can see the point Sirius had made; it is just too early for Bill to accept Harry's new life and the family that comes with it. Draco and Luna turn up ten minutes later and Harry is happy to see the pair, not to mention glad to see both wearing cheerful smiles. Or in Draco's case, a smug smirk.

After greeting them, Harry pokes his head through the doorway, making sure that no one has slipped away. He spots Severus and Narcissa standing by the window; Severus is, as usual, dressed in black, but it isn't a teaching robe. The witch is dressed in dark green, but it is her necklace that catches Harry's attention more than her choice of attire. It is a choker with black and violet gems. It might have seemed just like any ordinary piece of jewellery, but the shape of it is intriguing. The gems make up a scorpion that rests just under her throat, dipping slightly down her neckline.

"It was a gift from Severus."

Harry turns and finds Draco standing beside him. Harry asks, "How do you know I was looking at her necklace?"

"What else could you have been looking at, Potty?"

"Your mother is a very lovely witch, Dray."

Luna giggles and interrupts the wizards before Draco can snap his reply, "Professor Snape had it specially made for Cissy."

"How romantic of him," Harry states with surprise lacing his words. It's not like Snape seems the gift-giving type. "I didn't think he knew how to romance a woman."

"She adores it, hasn't taken it off for days," Draco mutters, looking at his mother and godfather. "Uncle Sev is courting Mother, and she is smitten. Honestly, she's like a first-year Hufflepuff meeting that idiot Lockhart for the first time. Father used to throw jewellery at her and she didn't bat her eyes like that."

Harry shrugs. "If I were to gift Luna with pretty trinkets, she wouldn't bat her eyes at me either because we're friends and we don't have sappy feelings for one another."

"Very true, Harry," Luna smiles and adds, "I suggested getting Sirius a collar with diamonds."

Harry bursts out laughing, "That's brill, Luna."

"I wonder why Sirius didn't think so."

"I think Father likes it that Sirius doesn't need to be dazzled with the Malfoy gold. Sirius is the one who insists on getting my father gifts. He practically worships my father. It's a bit disgusting, really. Do you have any idea how many times a day I have the misfortune of walking in on Black's tongue down my father's throat?"

"Give the wizard a break," Harry tells Draco with a beaming smile. "He's a free man now. He had his name cleared, he finally got rid of the Order, he has his vaults back—Sirius is finally happy and he wants everyone to know."

"I didn't mean anything by it," Draco explains. "I merely stated a fact. You won't hear any complaints from me. I want my parents to be content and they weren't with each other, simple as that. I've known Severus my whole life and I know he will treat Mother with respect and cherish her as she deserves to be cherished. I have not known Sirius for long but he's honest about what he wants and I believe he wants to stick around for a long time."

Harry nods. "He loves Lucius and wants a life with him. A very long life."

"He's already living in Malfoy Manor, so I'd say that they have decided to have a go at a real relationship."

Harry looks over to where Sirius is standing, bent over the backrest of the armchair Lucius is sitting in. They are talking in hushed voices but there is deep affection in Sirius' eyes; a warmth that is reserved for those he cares deeply about. Lucius doesn't display his emotions on his face; it is rare to see the wizard smile unless it is a smirk. But Harry can see that the cold gaze is somewhat softened and whatever Sirius is saying has the blond wizard entertained.

Then Neville comes in, having been shown in by a house-elf, and greets Harry, Luna and Draco. He hands his robe to the elf, who pops away and returns in a blink to say, "Master Harry, dinner be served."

"Thanks, Pebble," says Harry and addresses the room, "Enough with the idle chit-chat, dinner is waiting."

Severus seems actually pleased to hear it and takes Cissy's arm. Draco and Luna follow the pair and Neville hurries after them. But he walks back to Harry and looks a bit wary when he asks, "Not to sound rude, but the Lestrange trio isn't going to come, right? I don't think I can—"

Harry cuts the Gryffindor off by saying, "No, they're not coming. I wouldn't make you sit next to Bellatrix, Nev. I'm cruel, but not that cruel."

Neville gives a nod of thanks. Harry considers his words and knows that Bill's absence is probably a good thing; he wouldn't make Bill sit next to Tom or Lucius either. Sirius walks past Harry and his face looks resigned; there is no getting out of this dinner. Harry grins to himself as the Animagus tries to grab Lucius by the hand but the blond only gives him a push and an icy glare. Holding hands is something Lucius Malfoy does not do... at least not in public.

There is nothing modest about the dinner Harry and Narcissa have organised. The table is filled with rare delicacies and various dishes only the wealthy can afford. Tom, like the menacing storm cloud he typically is, strides into the dining room and sits down at the head of the table without any ceremony. Harry ignores it and just lets out a small sigh; a petulant Dark Lord is not something he wants to deal with at the moment. Being a gracious host, Harry arranges everyone around the table and takes a seat as well. The Dark Lord is already downing his wine.

"Dearest, please show some decorum," Harry hisses through a smile.

Tom only huffs a noise through his nose, but he does place the goblet down, much to Harry's satisfaction.

The elves pop in and out, doing all the necessary tasks that elves normally do when there is a dinner party. The first moments are certainly quiet; one might even call them nice. It all shatters rather spectacularly after the first ten minutes when Severus and Sirius start bickering.

Narcissa's delicate voice is positively frosty when she hisses out, "Wizards, please stop quarrelling like children."

"I would if that greasy bastard stopped being such a bloody prick for one minute."

"Sirius, you are a mature wizard," Draco butts in, looking a bit peeved, "and you should act like one. At least I think you're an adult."

"Why am I being targeted here? He was the one who started it!"

"Go fetch a stick, Black," Severus sneers.

Neville can't contain his chuckles and Luna is smiling so brightly that it is giving the chandelier a run for its money. The clinking of tableware dies down as arguing replaces it. Fred and George are both grinning into their drinks. At the head of the table, the Dark Lord is casually leaning back with a goblet of wine; watching the scene play out. He isn't exactly amused but he is not in the mood for torture just yet. Sirius Black and Severus Snape will never learn to get along, even for the sake of those around them.

"Oh, that's original, Snivelly," Sirius snorts and goes on, "Then again, you never had any imagination or a sense of humour."

"I don't recall asking your opinion, dog."

"You don't have to ask, I'll just give it."

Severus drawls coldly, "That's the problem with you Gryffindors, always sticking their nose where it doesn't belong."

"Sort of like you then," Sirius hums around his goblet as he sips his wine. "Why exactly am I being forced to sit so close to you, Snivellus?"

"Don't ask me," Severus snaps. "A bowl on the floor should suffice for you, mutt."

"Sitting near you is enough to make me lose my appetite altogether."

"It pleases me immensely, you half-wit." Snape intones with a smirk.

Sirius smirks and cannot stop himself, "Good to hear that something pleases you, otherwise one might think that you're dead already."

"It is clear that you left most of you wit behind in Azkaban."

Tom has decided to stay out of it—up until Harry gets up from his seat, his fists clenched and almost bellows, "Shut up! Just shut the fuck up, both of you! Why did I ever believe that you could act like grown-ups instead of toddlers throwing their toys out of their prams? Siri, you know how important this is to me, you know damn well why it's important to me and still, you just couldn't fucking control yourself, could you! I expected better from you. So thanks, a big hurrah for Sirius Black, for ruining a perfectly planned Christmas dinner for my family."

Harry throws one last toxic glare at Severus and then he is gone, stalking out in a huff. Tom, however, is very quick and has the proper reflexes for a Dark Lord. When Harry disappears around the corner and is no longer visible, Tom flicks his wrist and throws Sirius against the wall—with the chair and all. The wizard groans and they all hear the distinctive sound of a bone breaking; which one, however, they don't know. On his back, teeth set in a snarl, Sirius attempts to get back on his feet, but he doesn't get the chance because Tom is already thinking ahead and he has Sirius under the Cruciatus before anyone can utter a single word.

The Animagus isn't tickled by the torture curse; in fact, it is the single most painful experience in his life. Tom dishes out the Cruciatus daily, but those are mild compared to the one he is keeping Sirius under. The wizard on the floor is trashing, his fingers clawing at his chest and throat. He's in agony.

"My Lord—"

Severus stops Narcissa from rising and wraps his hand tightly around her wrist. She can't just stand by as her cousin thrashes on the floor, making choking noises as the curse cuts off his breathing.

Tom doesn't stop; he doesn't want to stop because he only sees Harry's crestfallen expression before his eyes. He can't abide Harry's sadness and the young wizard's disappointment is enough to fill Tom with cold fury. George and Fred both get to their feet, unsure how to act. Neville actually trembles; the image of his parents being tortured insane with the Cruciatus suddenly flashing through his mind.

Blood trickles from Black's nose, the whites of his eyes are visible and his muscles twitch with involuntary spasms that go through his body. The curse is wrecking devastation inside the wizard. Severus does not care for Sirius Black, but he cares for the people who—for some insane reason—care a great deal about Black. Narcissa's tears are a bitter pill to swallow, but Severus does not think it wise to interfere; even if the witch next to him is distraught and ready to stick a fork in the Dark Lord's eye.

On and on it goes for several more minutes and Severus is sure that Black's end is near, but he sees movement from the corner of his eye. The Potion Master is shocked when Lucius stands, his chair scraping the floor, and very calmly draws his wand, pointing it at their Lord. His expression is perfectly aloof, but underneath the pure-bred mask of indifference, Lord Malfoy is enraged and scared witless. Perhaps that is the reason for his reckless behaviour.

Of course, Tom notices the wand pointed at him, and he can see a violent storm in Malfoy's eyes, but he can't say that he had expected it. It irks him. "You dare defy me, Lucius!"

"Release him," the blond's gives a cold reply. The tone of his voice does not suggest but rather orders Tom to end the curse.

For Tom, this is something unfamiliar, for Lucius has never before disobeyed him. It only fuels his rage. There is no wand in his hand—the Crucio he is casting is wandless—so there really is no wand for Lucius to flick from his hand, but having taught the wizard, Tom is also aware that Lucius can curse a hole through his chest, and by the look of barely controlled anger on his face, he will do it should it come to that.

"You dare go against me, and for what—this worthless mongrel warming your bed?"

Severus, knowing that a curse is about to sever the Dark Lord's head from his shoulders, rakes his brain and quickly pulls out his wand from his sleeve. He casts his Patronus and sends it to Harry, in the hopes that the boy will be able to get his husband to stop cursing the dog.

"Father, please..." Draco mutters, shaken by the violent turn of events. He is about to speak further when his mother stops him and glares. Draco is unsure whether she is angry at him for speaking or angry at him for trying to stop Lucius from cursing the Dark Lord.

"Release him from the curse," Lucius tells the Dark Lord, "I will not ask you again."

It is that spectacular and yet horrifying scene that Harry walks into. He stands by the door, his eyes landing on the unusual confrontation, but then he sees his godfather, unconscious on the floor by the fireplace, with blood running down his face, which has taken a bluish tint from the lack of air.

Narcissa utters an almost silent 'thank Merlin' upon seeing Harry. The twins gesture Neville and Luna to get away from the table. They know Harry's temper well and the green-eyed wizard is about to unleash it on his husband. Without being seen, Severus slips away from the table and pulls Narcissa with him by the hand. She immediately goes to kneel by her cousin's side and checks for any signs of life.

Without thinking about it for too long, Harry sends a hex at his husband, cutting off his airway. He had used the same curse on Ron but the Weasley boy had not been as strong as Tom. The wizard demonstrates it by getting out of the curse Harry had sent. He looks furious, but seeing Harry standing there makes his expression soften. That is not the appropriate reaction because Harry's eyes narrow and not in a fun way.

"If you do not release Sirius from the curse, I will kill you where you stand, Tom. You have no right!"

Tom baulks a little, but sneers, "I have every right!"

Harry does not like the reply and slams Tom several feet away with another hex. It gives Harry enough time to raise his eyes and look upon everyone else. He is shocked by the anger and fear he sees displayed on Draco's face and the barely contained trembling of Neville's shoulders. Luna's eyes are beginning to fill with tears and she clings to Draco arm.

Harry doesn't need to look at Narcissa's face to know she is in a frenzy and that her hands are shaking. She can't even get a hold of her wand.

"Is he alive?" Harry asks, voice wavering and thick with emotion.

"Barely, but only a Healer can tell how much damage has been done. He was under the Cruciatus far longer than any of us have ever been. If he's still alive in the morning, he might recover," Snape gives a clinical answer.

Harry swallows the lump in his throat. He can't be bothered to look at his husband and instead walks over to Lucius. Touching his arm, Harry cuts through the red mist of anger that is clouding the wizard's mind. He urges the blond, "Lucius, take Siri home, he needs to see a Healer as soon as possible."

Snapping out of it, Lucius gives a curt nod and slides his wand back into its holster. He, Narcissa and Severus all Disapparate with Sirius' unconscious form. Draco and Luna share a look with Harry and Disapparate as well.

"Little bro, we're going—"

"—with the Malfoys."

Harry said, "Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can. Take Neville with you and make sure he's all right."

"We know he's your husband—"

"—but that was a rotten thing to do."

Harry agrees completely and when everyone is gone, he casts a spell that empties a bucket of ice water on Tom. The man splutters awake and immediately gets to his feet, ready to curse the first person in sight. He sees Harry and no longer wants to be in the room.

"If you've caused him any permanent damage, I may never forgive you. I will kill you myself."

"He ruined your Christmas."

Harry seethes, barely able to keep himself from blowing up. "No, you ruined my Christmas because you cursed my godfather until he couldn't breathe. Siri does shit that pisses me off, but that's because he's a childish person and I know that he doesn't mean any harm. Yes, I was angry because he promised me that he would behave, but you had no right to hurt him."

Tom snaps back at the younger man, "He was being disrespectful and I will not allow it."

Harry lets out a breath. He is so disappointed that he can't even look at the man. "You disrespected everyone here tonight. You do remember that Neville's parents were tortured with the Cruciatus into insanity by your followers and they no longer remember their son, let alone function as human beings? Did you see how scared Luna was, did you see her tears? Did you really think Lucius would have chosen you over the wizard he's in love with? You've learned absolutely nothing if you think it's your right to torture those who cause you offence."

"Harry—"

"No, I don't want to talk to you. I'm going to Malfoy Manor to see if I still have a godfather. I won't be coming home tonight because I really don't want to be near you right now. Don't come after me because I will curse you again."

Tom tries calling out Harry's name, but the younger man just raises his hand to stop him. Harry shakes his head and walks out of the room. He can't stay in the same room with the wizard any longer.

Tom grits his teeth together and with one angry swipe of his hand, plates and cutlery clatter and glass shatters upon meeting the hardwood floor. House-elves scamper away as they hear the noise; they don't dare approach their Master when he is so angry.

ooo

Harry steps out of the Floo and hurries upstairs where he runs into Draco. The young Malfoy looks dazed and doesn't even acknowledge Harry at first.

"How is he?"

Draco blinks and focuses on Harry. He says heavily, "The Healer is with him at the moment. Come on, I'll take you to him."

As they walk, Harry mutters, "It's all my fault."

"How can it be your fault? You didn't make the Dark Lord curse him."

"No, but he did it because he thought he had a right to avenge my sour mood. I blew up in Sirius' face because he made me angry and Tom took it upon himself to punish Sirius for ruining my Christmas. So it's my fault because I shouldn't have yelled like that. I was upset and wasn't thinking about how Tom might react."

"Don't be ridiculous," Draco huffs, "none of it was your fault. End of story."

They walk the rest of the way in silence. Narcissa comes out of the room they are heading towards and her eyes seem red-rimmed. She catches Harry's wide, shining eyes and assures the young wizard, "He's still unconscious, but we managed to spell potions into him that will help relax his muscles. He can breathe on his own now."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course, dear. I'll go get some more potions from the brewing room."

As Narcissa scurries past them, Harry takes a deep breath and pushes himself through the door. He doesn't notice that Draco does not enter with him, having gone with his mother instead. A Healer stands by the bed. He turns his head to look at Harry and he has a disapproving look etched on his features but Harry's stare is vibrant with authority. He raises a brow at the Healer's scowl and then dismisses him completely. Harry's expression mellows somewhat when his gaze lands on Sirius. He looks rather haggard and abnormally pale, but otherwise intact.

"Will he be all right?"

The Healer gives a nod, probably realising that he doesn't need a quarrel with the dark-haired wizard. "He needs rest. He should to stay in bed for a few days and give his muscles time to relax on their own."

"Tell me about his injuries," Harry orders, growing angrier now that he can see Sirius' almost lifeless-looking form. "Please list them for me."

"Two broken ribs, possible concussion, potential nerve damage from the prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse."

Harry exhales heavily. "When will you be able to tell if there is any lasting damage?"

"The broken ribs have been fixed, though I suspect he will be sore for at least a few days. Once he is awake, he needs to be checked for any signs of concussion and any other head injury. I recommend a small dosage of a muscle relaxing potion until the tremors disappear completely. Bed rest and the right potions should cure him of any effects of the curse."

The door opens and Harry turns to see Lucius come in. He isn't looking his best either; a detached expression is covering the turmoil underneath. The Healer gathers his things and leaves the room. Harry isn't sure if Lucius can't maintain his mask or simply doesn't care, but he is a bit surprised to see the blond crumble just a little.

"Will it be okay with you if I stay the night?" Harry asks.

Lucius doesn't give him an answer right away, but eventfully he offers a brief nod and says, "The elves will prepare a room for you."

"You don't have to agree if you don't want me in your house."

"Don't be daft."

Harry doesn't push and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "He'll be fine. He survived Azkaban and Molly Weasley's screeching; he'll just be pissed off when he wakes up."

"I am worried about the nerve damage," Lucius sighs, "for it might have long-lasting effects."

"The Healer said that he'll need to take potions and he needs to stay in bed for a couple of days." Harry, now sure that his godfather is alive and somewhat comfortable, decides to leave. He stands. "Take care of him."

Lucius doesn't articulate his answer; instead, he gives another concise nod to Harry as the younger man prepares to leave the room. As the door clicks shut, Lucius releases a shaky sigh. He removes his robe, never noticing his slightly shaking hands and fumbling fingers that pick on the little buttons. He can't get his cufflinks open either. He does not notice Narcissa come in, but there she is, gently covering his hands with her smaller ones. With a few quick and steady moves, Narcissa has the cufflinks undone and she wraps her fingers around the man's wrists. "Your anger won't change what has been done."

"Did I really threaten the Dark Lord or did I imagine myself committing such a reckless Gryffindor act?"

Narcissa's light chuckle conveys her amusement. "Then we must have all imagined the same thing because you indeed committed such a Gryffindor act. Perhaps not Sirius, but I shall put my memories of it into a Pensieve and show him once he feels well."

Lucius can't make sense of what had possessed him to point his wand at the Dark Lord and order him, but frankly, he does not care to make sense of it; at least for the time being. He sits on the bed and looks over at the wizard resting there, feeling a tight clamp inside his chest.

"While careless and positively fatal, you did choose to disobey our Lord, and I must admit that I feel a little proud. I do believe that it was possibly one of the dumbest ideas you have ever had, but I would have done the same; I almost did, had it not been for Severus stopping me."

"It did little to stop him; I only managed to tie a rope around my own neck."

"It will be all right, you'll see," Narcissa assures him. "Look after my cousin, Lucius."

"Perhaps I should stay in one of the guestrooms," Lucius looks utterly confused. It would be amusing in any other situation.

"You need to stay right where you are; it is the only remedy Sirius will need."

ooo

It is during the night that Sirius stirs. It is not a pleasant awakening for the man. There is pain and there is definitely a weird buzzing in his ears. Sirius really hates it. He can't move. Well, he can, but doesn't feel like moving because it seems like a painful thing to do. It is dark and he is in bed; that much he can tell. But there is still something wrong with his head—everything is rather bleary and strange. Has he been drinking something illegal? Has Snape poisoned him? That seems like a reasonable explanation because Snape hates him. His chest hurts; in fact, breathing hurts, but his chest is tender like someone had clubbed him. He has a headache, but it is a dull pain and doesn't directly bother him. His muscles feel twitchy and sore. He can't really remember anything beyond waking up—oh, right. It's Christmas, isn't it? He had plans, he wanted to celebrate, there was a dinner party. Harry's party. Shit, the party!

The Dark Lord had viciously cursed him because he had hurt Harry; Harry had been angry at him and he—Harry's face had been so dejected, so disappointed. How could he have done it? Why had he been so...self-centred, arrogant, careless? All of those apply. Hurting Harry is unacceptable and the last thing he wants. He is such an idiot!

"Fuck it all to hell!" Sirius manages a ragged breath before he feels the pain flare up. It isn't even comparable to the pain eating him inside; he is disappointed in himself. All he had wanted to do after his escape from Azkaban was to find Harry and protect Harry and be responsible for Harry. Everything has been about Harry and for Harry.

A soft light appears in the room. Sirius stares at the familiar ceiling.

"How are you feeling?"

Like shit because Harry hates me now. Instead, Sirius mutters, "Brill. Could do with a stiff drink."

The silence that follows isn't particularly pleasant; in fact, it makes the room seem a bit chillier than before. Craning his neck to the side, Sirius feels like an absolute dick. No, really, he compares himself to the lowest form of dirt under someone's shoe because Lucius is sitting there with a face that is far from blank. It is a bit scary to see so much emotion seeping through a perfectly crafted mask and he isn't even looking at Sirius. The wizard is glad that he doesn't have to see those glassy eyes because he is certain that they look a lot like Harry's had—full of frustration and anger and something that makes Sirius want to rip his chest open.

"I don't deserve nice things, I ... I've been disappointing people since birth, so nothing has changed there."

"You absolute twit! Stop making this about you."

Despite the pain and the raging uncertainty, Sirius jokes, "Oh, sorry, didn't realise it's not about me. It's not like I'm injured or anything."

Silver eyes flash, like a glint reflecting from a blade of a dagger. "Are you seriously trying to be funny right now?"

"A little situational humour." Lucius leaves the bed and Sirius wants to bash his head against something hard. "Luce, I'm sorry ... don't leave me here alone, come back."

After some silence, Sirius feels the bed dip and a glass bottle is pressed against his lips. "Drink it."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Snivellus—"

"Drink or I will leave," Lucius orders, his tone nippier than a November afternoon. "Do not test me."

Sirius doesn't want to swallow the bitter potion, but he does it because he is sure that Lucius isn't joking. He doesn't want to be alone. After a little while, the pain starts to ebb away; the edges of it are less sharp now. Bless whoever came up with pain relieving potions.

"Any pain?"

"No, just a bit sore," Sirius grumbles as he tries to sit up. He tries to keep himself from smiling when Lucius arranges the pillows behind him and helps him stay upright. It is less painful than before, but still bloody hard to move without causing his muscles to tense up. As he settles himself, Sirius grabs the blond's arm. "I'm sorry for being such an arsehole. I'm a bloody child and I know I'm totally undeserving of you, but don't leave. I'll be all miserable and pitiful and I'll pine after you. Like a discarded puppy."

Lucius sighs and looks away; mostly because he doesn't want to seem pitiful himself.

"Luce? Don't—I'm sorry."

"I thought he was going to kill you. You were convulsing on the floor, you weren't breathing. I didn't even know how badly you were hurt or if you would still be alive after he lifted the curse, and I kept thinking that you would die without ever hearing... I hadn't even told you—"

Sirius realises what Lucius wants to say and smiles, "I know, Luce. You don't have to say it."

"I cannot abide the thought of losing you."

Sirius feels a scratchy lump in his throat, and he tries to swallow it before he says, "I can't really stomach the idea of leaving you, so you don't have anything to worry about."

After a moment of silence, Lucius says, "I did something foolish."

Sirius raises a brow, "And you're admitting it?"

"Yes, because it could possibly cost me my head."

"Oh, now I have to hear about it," Sirius grins and teases. "What did you do?"

Lucius states, completely solemn, "I threatened to curse the Dark Lord."

Seconds tick by without one word from Sirius, but then he starts laughing and instantly regrets it because it bloody well hurts and because Lucius starts glaring a little too frigidly again. "I'm just trying to picture Tommy's face. Merlin, that's enough to cure me on the spot."

"You should have seen his face when Harry actually did curse him."

Sirius stops laughing and his eyes turn sombre. "Harry did what?"

Lucius explains with an amused smile, "While you were being cursed within an inch of your life, Harry came back. Once he saw your nearly lifeless form twitching on the floor, he reacted rather violently and sent a hex at his husband in order to stop him from killing you."

Sirius can only gawk like an idiot.

"Did you really think that Harry would hate you for being...well, you?"

"Yeah, I mean...maybe. You know, not hate me, but feel disappointed and angry."

"Oh, he was," Lucius says and notices a subtle change in the other's expression. He goes from slightly glum to positively grim, "but his ire was mainly directed at his other half. He was livid but also concerned about you. He is staying the night in one of the guest rooms."

"Harry's here, right now?"

Lucius gives a nod and watches the conflicting emotions dance across Black's face.

Sirius seems happy with the news and asks, "So, why did you want to curse Tommy?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Sirius smirks a bit too wickedly. "It was very sweet of you to jump to my rescue, even though Tommy will probably demote you so far down the food chain that you'll want to throttle me yourself."

"He will try but he won't be able to punish me for going against him. Harry won't let him."

"Love it when you're being devious," Sirius tells the blond and urges him to move closer. Despite the fact that it hurts like nothing else, Sirius tips forward and pulls Lucius close enough to slant his lips over the blond's. He wants to do a lot more than place a chaste kiss on his lover's mouth, but his chest starts aching and it is bothering him somewhat fierce.

"Any chance of getting another potion?"

When Lucius goes looking for another potion, Sirius releases a heavy groan. Harry doesn't hate him and won't want another, more competent godfather. He isn't dead and Lucius isn't going to dump him for being an idiot. Life seems good.

"The Healer only gave me one bottle," the blond wizard says as he slips back to bed and Sirius immediately feels himself relax. "I'll order more for you."

"Let's bother the Healer in the morning. I'll manage without it for the night."

"If you're sure."

Sirius hums in agreement and smiles to himself when the other wizard nestles closer and curls an arm around his middle. He falls asleep with his thoughts centred around Harry and how he is going to make it better.

ooo

Harry is unhappily prodding his fork into the plate of scrambled eggs when he spots Lucius entering the dining room. Narcissa greets him and a house-elf pops into the room, waiting for orders.

"Take a breakfast tray to the master bedroom. Something light."

The elf is eager to follow orders and disappears. Harry places his fork down and keeps his eyes on Lucius.

"Sirius is awake and complaining," Lucius says as he notices the teen's questioning eyes. Harry stands, but then he sits back down and frowns. Lucius understands the teen's hesitation and goes on, "Your godfather is under the impression that you now hate him and he's being overly immature about the situation."

"I don't hate him!" Harry exclaims. "He really thinks that I hate—"

Lucius gives a nod.

"Stupid mutt," Harry mutters and gets up again. "If you would excuse me, I have a godfather to yell at."

Harry stalks out of the dining room, jogs up the staircase and takes a right. Behind the door of the master bedroom, Harry feels a bit awkward because it isn't just any random bedroom; it is the bedroom Lucius shares with Sirius. Hearing a coughing fit coming from the room, Harry opens the door and hurries over to the bed.

Sirius is clutching his chest and coughing like mad. Actually, it sounds like he is choking. Harry feels helpless; he has no idea what to do until he remembers what the Healer had said. Sirius needs potions to help his muscles relax.

He spots a few bottles on the bedside table that are out of Sirius' reach and scurries over. Quickly, Harry opens one of the glass bottles and reads the label, confirming that it is the correct potion. Pressing the bottle to his godfather's mouth, Harry dips it and forces as much as he can down Sirius' throat. After a moment, the wheezing stops and Sirius starts gasping for air, filling his lungs with the precious stuff. Harry notices his hands shaking a bit as he watches his godfather settle down.

"Are you all right? Do you need me to get the Healer?"

Sirius shakes his head as he slumps into the pillows. "No, I'll just stay like this for a while. Had a bit of a disagreement with the house-elf. It seems that I'm not allowed to drink coffee at the moment. Healer's orders or some rubbish."

Harry can imagine Sirius yelling at the poor elf.

"So...you stayed in the Manor?" Sirius starts, looking unusually sheepish.

"Whatever you're thinking, Siri," Harry speak with a smile, "you couldn't be more wrong."

Sirius mutters to himself, "Bloody Lucius."

"Do you really think I would hate you for being childish, which you are most of the time anyway?"

"Never seen you so angry before," Sirius mumbles, picking at the edge of the bed cover. "I figured you finally had enough of my shite. You've never walked out like that and the next thing I know, Tommy is throwing me across the room."

Harry growls, "He had no right to hurt you."

"He's been itching to off me since he first met me, so I can't say I blame the bloke for trying."

"It's not funny, Siri," Harry tells the Animagus with a glower. "He could have killed you! Just because I yelled at you. I never wanted you to be punished by my zealous brute of a husband."

"I'm a bit banged up, but I'll be back on my feet in no time."

Harry makes a face. "You had broken ribs, you couldn't breathe—who knows what sort of damage the Cruciatus Curse did."

"As long as you don't hate me, Pup. You don't hate me, right?"

"Of course not! Idiot." Harry snaps. "Lucius definitely isn't in it for your superior intellect, that's for sure."

Sirius barks out a laugh, "It's my rakish charm and staying power."

"He was very worried, you know," Harry states with a small smile. "I've never seen him show that much emotion in front of other people."

"I know." Sirius gives a smug smirk. "You'll put in a good word for him when Tommy gets over his shock and comes here to punish him, right?"

"If he ever wants to see me again, he'll need to learn a few new tricks. Grovelling for example, and begging—can't wait to hear him begging. If he thinks I'll just forget about this, he has another thing coming."

"Even though he almost tortured me to death, I understand why he reacted so violently," Sirius says and adds when Harry looks ready to protest. "I'm not saying it excuses him, but he does seem to love you and he blamed me for making you so livid that you couldn't even stay in the same room with me."

"You're right," Harry points out, "it doesn't excuse him. He can't just curse people who piss me off."

Sirius raises a brow. "Pup, he does it all the time. If someone dares to annoy you, he gets right on it and curses the life out of them. Remember when that Carrow bitch got mouthy with you? Tommy kept her in the dungeons for a week. Why else is she so meek now whenever you're around. Or that bloke who kept calling you 'Potter brat'? And Weasley isn't exactly having a good time in the dungeons, now is he?"

"That's different!"

"How is that different? I disrespected you and he did the only logical thing his reptilian brain could come up with."

"Shut up, Padfoot."

Sirius chuckles. "You know I'm right, but that doesn't mean you should forgive him so easily. I want front row seats when he's ready to beg on his knees."

"Oh, he will," Harry promises with an evil smirk.

"I'm sorry I ruined Christmas." Sirius shifts guiltily. "I know how much you wanted it to work. Snape was being a git and I couldn't help it. I tried, Pup, I really did, but he's just so irritating."

"Severus shouldn't have goaded you like he did. I'll be having words with him as well. I just expected more from you, Sirius Black." Harry pins the man with a narrowed look.

"I let you down again."

Harry sighs and nods. "Yes, you did. I don't hate you for it, but I'm disappointed that you broke your promise to me."

"You won't be looking for another godfather then?" Sirius jokes, but he seems cautious.

Harry snorts a little too bitterly. "Oh yeah, I'm having tryouts for the position next week. I'm sure Severus will be first in line, what with his obvious love for me, or maybe Remus who I haven't even seen since Dumbledore's funeral."

Sirius' face darkens upon hearing Remus' name and he says, "Dumbledore had him on a leash and even now with the old goat dead, Remus is still loyal to the Order. He doesn't want to fight, but he has no choice. When you're in the Order, you either fight with them or you're the enemy. Moody won't let him just walk out."

"You did it, though; you just walked out."

"I kicked them out, and besides, I was never actually in the Order. During the First War, I was somewhat useful but after Azkaban, I was kept out of everything that really mattered; never knew about important missions or took part in meetings. Moody and Shacklebolt kept me away from everything, thinking I wasn't any use to them because I was just another Black who went mad; an Azkaban fugitive with a few loose screws."

"It won't be long now," says Harry, "soon, the Order will be nothing more than a remnant of the past."

"We have waited long enough, it's time to make a party of it."

"You can do whatever you want with Mad-Eye." Harry shrugs. "As long as I get Umbridge. We are going to have so much fun in the dungeons. I've got big plans for Dolores."

Sirius laughs and immediately regrets it as the healed ribs start aching again. "Bloody hell...forgot about the pain."

"Do you need another potion?" Harry asks.

Sirius shakes his head. "It will pass if I stop moving. I can't believe I have to stay in bed for the rest of the week. Three bloody days with nothing to do."

"We will keep you company."

"It's a fucking nightmare, Pup," Sirius groans. "Do you expect me to stay sane?"

Harry snorts and gives his godfather a look that clearly asks 'are you sane now', but the Animagus only glares. "It's just a few days, Siri."

"Yeah, a few days," Sirius mutters. "I can't believe I have to spend my favourite time of the year in bed. I used to love Christmas hols as a kid, mostly because I had a chance to prank Bellatrix. One time that bitch cousin of mine hid a venomous snake in my bed after I made her wine spill all over her. I was rather hoping to do it again."

"Do you really think Bellatrix would just be satisfied with slipping a snake between your sheets?"

Sirius grins, but changes the subject and asks, "Any chance we can have a repeat of last night, without the hexing and cursing part?"

"Maybe," Harry replies with a smile, "if you don't keel over, that is."

An elf pops into the bedroom, making Sirius' answer die on his lips. The house-elf is wringing his hands as he says, "Harry Riddle, sir. There be a letter for yous, but the stupid owl not give Dinky the letter."

Surprised that someone has sent him a letter, Harry presents the house-elf with a nod and sends him away. Sirius grins. "Want to bet it's from Tommy?"

"No, he wouldn't send me a letter," Harry explains as he stands, "and it's way too soon. He'll sulk for at least a week."

The bedridden Animagus huffs a laugh. "His Royal Arseness does have a knack for acting like a little shite. And they say I'm childish."

"You are childish, just not for long periods of time," Harry remarks. "Should I send Lucius up here?"

"He has Ministry business," Sirius replies, looking put out, "so I'll have to suffer in solitude until he gets back."

Harry says in an amused voice, "He really does love you, Siri."

"I know," Sirius states with a certain amount of self-satisfaction. "One day, I'm going to make him say it out loud with people watching. Make him lose all that Malfoy training. It was bloody hard work to get him, I'll do everything in my power to keep him."

"I'm happy for you, Siri. You had such a haunted look about you when you were forced into hiding, but now you look healthy and content."

With a tired sigh, Sirius shrugs. "I didn't have a reason to be happy before. Just you, Pup...and I didn't get to spend as much time with you as I wanted. Now I have a life that's worth the effort."

"Good. I'd hate to lose you, Siri. So please, for my sake at least, stop being reckless with your life and don't get in trouble again. I'm going to have a talk with Severus as well, and maybe he'll actually listen this time."

Sirius snorts but doesn't try to argue with his godson. By the door, Harry tells the man, "I'll see what I can do about that Christmas dinner."

The Animagus watches Harry leave and feels himself relax. Harry doesn't hate him and there is still hope for a nice family gathering later. It isn't perfect, but it isn't all that bad either.

ooo

Harry gives the owl a treat after yanking the letter from its beak, the feathered menace screeching and flapping its wings in agitation. It is no wonder that the elf hadn't been able to get the letter.

The missive is from Bill. In the midst of everything, Harry had once again misplaced the knowledge of Ron being in the cellar, awaiting his fate. His magic is bound and he can't even summon a speck of dust with it, but Harry still considers him a threat. It is only thanks to his brothers that Harry had decided to let the redhead live out his days. Bill is writing to him, wishing him well and delicately asking when he can come collect his rebellious brother.

There is also a few words about Arthur; apparently, Bill has been watching his dad and he is quite sure that Arthur isn't agreeing with the Order's tactics or their stubborn streak regarding the continued attempts to win a war that is already over.

Now Harry has to figure out how to deal with the rat in the dungeons. Bill is asking for a time, he is asking where he can take Ron—frankly, he is asking all sorts of things Harry doesn't know how to answer yet. Harry pockets the letter and mentally lists all the things he needs to figure out before he can contact Bill and give the man an answer.

Harry doesn't want to go home, for he has no desire to run into his husband. The green-eyed wizard figures that there are two possible outcomes. Tom will either apologise or deny his part in the incident and just hope that Harry will forget about it. While Harry doesn't want to go to Riddle Manor, he really wants to pay Ron a visit. It is a shame that the redhead is currently in the cellar under Riddle Manor. Another thing Harry wants to do is check on his friends. Mainly Luna and Neville who had both displayed a certain level of fear and distress the other night.

Fred and George had taken Neville home after the disastrous dinner but Luna had been escorted to Malfoy Manor by Draco who had wanted to console his girlfriend. Harry has nothing better to do, so he goes looking for the two.

After some aimless walking around the house, Harry spots the girl from a window. Luna is walking outside in the garden, seemingly doing nothing. The witch is bundled up in a bright yellow coat and wearing fluffy earmuffs. She turns and greets Harry with a wave, which the wizard returns.

It is snowing a bit. Harry calls for one of the elves and asks for some sort of warm coat to throw on. A moment later, the elf pops back into the room with a winter coat. Harry doesn't know and doesn't care who owns it.

"Good morning, Luna love." Harry approaches the witch.

With a smile, Luna says, "It's such a lovely morning, isn't it? Would you like to walk with me, Harry?"

"Sure." Harry agrees and they start walking alongside the yew hedge that seems to be infinite, but then they reach the fountain and Harry sees beautiful ice sculptures. He knows that the sculptures have been crafted by the elves; it is a tradition that had been started by a distant ancestor, but it does lighten Harry's heart to know that the elves actually enjoy sculpting them out of blocks of ice. They consider it entertaining. Luna is quiet as they walk. Harry clears his throat before he speaks, "So about last night...I'm sorry you had to see that, Luna."

"It's all right," Luna hums. "People do silly things for silly reasons."

"Yeah, he can be an idiot at times."

"I wasn't upset because of the violence. I have seen all sorts of violence in my life, especially since meeting you, Harry. It upset me because the Malfoys have become my family as well and even though Lucius thinks he does a good job of hiding it, I know how much love he feels for Sirius. It hurt me to see him so frightened."

Harry is a little surprised but doesn't want to mention it. "I know they have feelings for one another. Sirius won't shut up about it."

"You were alone before you found Tom," Luna goes on and waits until Harry gives her an affirmative nod, "you did not feel cared for; no one made you feel loved before Tom came along. Now, you feel complete; all those missing parts of you were united when you met him. Right?"

"I guess you could say that, yes," Harry shrugs, not wanting to get into that at the moment. "What has that got to do with Sirius and Lucius?"

"Lucius was much the same way before Sirius came along. He had friends, a wife and then a son, a master to serve; all of those wonderful things made him feel content for a while. But I think only Sirius can make him truly happy because human beings need love to be truly happy. He was alone like you were, but now he isn't alone anymore because Sirius loves him. Do you understand, Harry? How much love can change us?"

"It can also make us afraid. I think Tom was afraid of being loved; in particular, by someone who he believed should hate him. In a way, I did hate him for taking away my parents, but my parents were fools to trust Dumbledore. They could have left the country, made sure that no one knew their location, but they didn't. It was Pettigrew who betrayed them and Dumbledore who led them into danger in the first place. Why couldn't I matter more to them? If they knew that Tom was after me, why did they risk it? That's why hating Tom for killing them isn't warranted. He was fooled by the prophecy. They were all stupidly trusting and blind." Harry stops himself and sighs. "Sorry, didn't mean to rant."

"It's good to get it all out." Luna encourages the wizard with a smile. "You forgave him because there really is nothing good about keeping all that hatred inside you. You forgiving him helped him do the same; he could forgive himself for all the senseless pain he caused you."

"He is very much like that boy he once was before the Dark Arts consumed him completely. You know about the diary, so you know what he did."

"Yes, the piece of his soul hidden inside the pages."

Harry nods. "That was his Horcrux, which means it was half of his soul. When the diary was in Ginny Weasley's possession, Tom used it to tap into the girl's life force and he created a physical body for the soul piece inside the diary. He has all of Voldemort's memories; he knows and remembers each and every crime he committed, but he's also young now. At first, I was confused and I couldn't make sense of my feelings, but now I just can't hate him for something he basically didn't do. He really is Tom Riddle now, that young man who has no actual connection to the death of my parents because his soul is that of a sixteen-year-old boy who later grew up to be a maniac. Am I making any sense, Luna?"

"He is Tom," the girl assures the green-eyed wizard. "You gave him a second chance; to have a different life but also conquer the world as a Dark Lord. He's just a cuddlier version of the Voldemort the world once knew."

"He has his moments as an evil git," Harry reminds the girl. "I don't think he would have killed Sirius. Sometimes his anger makes him blind. He still goes all caveman on his minions when they mess up."

"It will all work out in the end, Harry," Luna states with a knowing smile.

"I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not optimism," Luna hums, looking at Harry with sparkling eyes, "it's what will come in the future. You'll figure it out when you are ready."

ooo

Tom Riddle is in a homicidal mood. It is not an unusual state, for the Dark Lord is by definition a menacing tempest with superior magical prowess, but this time it has nothing to do with other inept wizards messing up some carefully crafted plan or even annoying him with something or other. No, this time he is a looming torrent because of his own failure to keep himself in check. Close to three days ago, he had committed an error. Oh, how he had enjoyed cursing Black. It had been exquisite. It stopped being delightful when Harry had gazed at him with those brilliant green eyes that had been filled with fear and loathing simultaneously. He had looked at Tom as if he could not recognise the man before him; as if the wizard had been replaced with a golem.

It makes Tom violently ill; the thought of having completely fucked up his life with the only person he can ever love. The thought is so troubling that he has to sit down and cradle his head between shaking hands. What if Harry doesn't want to see him ever again? What if Harry decides to leave him? What if Harry—

His thoughts are interrupted when a slight shiver of magic courses through him, alerting the man of visitors. Someone has stepped out of the Floo. There are not many who have been given such rights. Sauntering into the parlour, Tom comes face to face with Narcissa. The witch does not seem hostile but her gaze is not particularly warm either when it lands on the wizard.

"My Lord," she speaks, voice perfectly even and devoid of colours. "I have come to collect your husband's belongings. He wishes to stay at Malfoy Manor for another few days. We do not see a reason to begrudge him. On the contrary, he is most welcome to seek sanctuary with the Malfoy family."

"Spare me the histrionics," Tom sneers, his head threatening to split open with unwanted pain. "I know perfectly well that Harry wishes to distance himself."

"With good reason, my Lord," the witch smirks sharply, "for he is quite distressed at the moment. Having nearly lost his beloved godfather; surely, you understand his need to spend some time away?"

"I will have his things packed and ready," Tom flippantly offers the lady and inwardly smiles as he sees Narcissa's calculated smile falter a little. She has no idea that Tom is laying a trap and she is about to step into it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I shall get back to my work. Have a nice day, Narcissa."

Only her upbringing stops her from stammering out her reply. She had been instructed by Harry to come and play out the little scene. The young man had wanted to test out his husband's mood after days of silence, but the witch has received a surprise instead. Tom Riddle is acting like a total pillock. She is ready to go back and tell Harry how brutishly his husband had acted.

She just doesn't know that it is Tom's plan to lure Harry back. Narcissa, thoroughly appalled, goes back home with a trunk of Harry's clothes and personal items. The elves had even packed up his broom and thrown in a pair of Quidditch gloves for good measure. Of course, she had not dared to tell Harry right away.

The next day, the young wizard is preparing another small Christmas supper; this time without curses and broken bones. They are all sitting in the drawing room where a beautifully decorated tree has been set up. It is significant to have a family meal now that Sirius is feeling well enough to roam around Malfoy Manor again. Severus had agreed to attend but only because Narcissa had asked him to stand by her.

Harry had threatened the wizard with inconceivable torture and a permanent silencing charm should he pick a fight with Sirius again, but Narcissa's threats of depriving the man of her company for a very long time have made him reconsider his attitude for the night.

Sirius, still feeling some discomfort, has settled on the sofa with a few pillows propping him up. The meal itself is nothing extravagant; a platter with fruit and cheese, various pastries, baked potatoes, fresh salad and some roasted venison that looks appetising. Never one for stiff decorum, Harry forces everyone to sit wherever they like with their food placed wherever is convenient. Harry and Luna both snicker at the sight of the Malfoys uncomfortably balancing their plates and wearing matching expressions of distaste for such beastly way of eating. It's barbaric to eat on the sofa.

"I would like to make a toast," Luna stands and holds up her crystal goblet. "To friends and family, to those who love us and who we love in return. To the spirits that have blessed this meal and of course, the Nargles inhabiting the west wing."

"To Nargles!" Harry echoes with a silly smile.

"I've been grateful for many things in my life," Sirius begins his speech. "I had extraordinary friends; James and Lily were my family when I didn't have my own. As you all know, I hated the lot of them. But there were a few I cared about. I would have gone barking mad without you, Cissy."

Narcissa leans over to squeeze the man's hand.

"Azkaban wasn't all that enjoyable, but I had something that got me through it," Sirius goes on and looks at Harry with a fond smile, "I had a godson who I was willing to stay sane for, although the sane part is still debatable."

"You are a little insane." Harry laughs.

"Who said I was of sound mind when I was sent to Azkaban?" Sirius jokes. "Bellatrix is just abnormally mad; makes me look good in comparison."

"I'm grateful you aren't a raving lunatic," Harry adds, "just slightly so."

Sirius snorts but says, "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah...things I'm grateful for. Obviously, my rakish charm and brilliant mind."

"Get on with it, you mangy mutt." Snape makes a grimace.

Sirius, always in the mood for some verbal sparring, says, "Go play with your potions, Snivelly."

"You are not starting this crap again," Harry warns and he means it. "Be nice or I will sic Luna on you and believe me, she's very good at nasty hexes."

"I rather want to see that, so feel free to continue," Draco grins at the two wizards.

"First one to say something mean or cruel will get a taste of my wandless spell that I learnt from the Dark Lord." Harry points out.

Sirius makes a face but dismisses Snape and his comments. He doesn't want to upset Harry. "I just wanted to say, before I was so rudely interrupted with unwanted commentary, that I must have done something right in my life because I'm still alive and I am allowed to share it with a gorgeous, snooty, pompous, self-centred wizard who seems to want me around. I have no idea why, but I'm not complaining."

He desperately wants to embarrass Lucius and do something indecent, like snog the wizard with everyone watching, but he quickly stops himself. He can still see that open look of affection shining in those grey eyes and he doesn't want to make Lucius question his own sanity for sticking with a harebrained twit like Sirius Black. He knows that the blond doesn't like displaying any sort of affection with so many pairs of eyes on them, but he is pleasantly surprised when Lucius doesn't protest to him taking his hand and lacing their fingers. He even manages to sneak a kiss on the wizard's knuckles before the silver eyes he adores so much give him his first warning. Not that Sirius cares. He is almost giddy now; from just one small gesture of love.

"I am thankful for the chance to have seen my son grow into a man and for the chance to enjoy a life without duty," Narcissa says, sharing a smile with Severus who simply sneers slightly less.

"I think we all have things we are grateful for and people who we'd like to thank for them," Draco says, looking at Luna.

"I'm just very pleased that I'm not alone, that I have friends and family around me. Growing up like I did—it can change a person. It didn't break me or turn me bitter, but it didn't leave me unscathed either. I guess what I'm trying to say is that we all have bad days and not so bad days. Sometimes life deals you a bad hand and you have to play with the cards you were given, but sometimes you get to fuck up whatever plans destiny has for you. The Dursleys, Dumbledore, false friends, the meddling public—they didn't stop me from stepping away from the path that had been laid out for me. We're not pawns. We have a choice to be the puppet-master rather than the puppet."

"Well said," Lucius remarks.

"What are you grateful for, Severus?" Narcissa raises a brow.

The man remains silent for a moment but then clears his throat. "I never minded being on my own; it provided protection and it was what I had. I was grateful for the solitude, but it was a poor companion to have."

"You could have just said that you're grateful to have a witch like my cousin to tolerate your shite," Sirius snorts.

"Yes, that is what I meant." Snape states.

"Merlin," Harry's mouth falls open, "can someone pinch me right now. Did you just agree with something Sirius said? Did I really hear that?"

"Hush," Narcissa reprimands the young wizard, "you'll start another fight."

Sirius frowns and says, "I mean, look at her—she's way out of your league. But she seems to want you, for some completely incomprehensible reason. So do not make her unhappy, Snape."

Snape looks irked, but he doesn't disagree. He knows that Narcissa is completely out of his league. But he also knows that the witch loves him. So it's not all that hard to give Sirius Black a nod that signifies his understanding. He will never make Narcissa unhappy.

Draco gets up and says, "Well, I'm knackered. I should escort Luna home before she falls asleep."

The girl does seem drowsy and Narcissa offers, "Why don't you have the elves make up a room for her? You can accompany your young lady home in the morning after breakfast."

"She can sleep in my room."

Lucius cuts in with a pointed look. "She most certainly will not be sleeping in your room. We still do things properly in this family."

Draco's expression is close to disbelief. He glares at the two wizards. Two wizards who are not married but still enjoy a rather active and uncomfortably vocal sex-life. "Yeah, you are setting such a good example, Father."

"The kid has a point, Luce," Sirius pipes in, sneaking his hand behind the blond's neck. He just wants to touch his lover all the bloody time. "We're not exactly following the pure-blood guidelines here."

"I don't recall asking for your input," Lucius drawls.

"Isn't it a good thing that I gave it anyway? You know I'm right. We're living a life of sin. You're not even divorced yet, so that makes me the shameless mistress. Not that I object to it," says Sirius with a grin plastered on his lips. It is meant to be interpreted as lecherous.

Narcissa's melodic voice rings out, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. The Malfoy solicitors sent me the papers this afternoon and I have signed them. Congratulations, dear husband, or should I say ex-husband; we are no longer legally bound, which means I am Narcissa Black once again. Unless Sirius has any objections."

"Are you joking? You were and always will be a Black," Sirius says to the witch, feeling immensely proud that his favourite cousin is back in the family. "So...Luce is single again? Lucky me, then."

"Were you satisfied with the settlement?" Lucius asks, unsure what else to ask in a situation such as this. First Malfoy divorce since the last century and all.

"You gave me more than enough, Lucius. More than I asked. I would happily give some of it back, but I won't since you obviously can't manage your vast mountains of Galleons with sense."

"This calls for another round of drinks," Harry suggests and soon enough, an elf arrives with a new bottle of wine and fills everyone's glasses. The elf hands Luna a goblet with juice and slips her some caramel biscuits as well.

Severus motions Narcissa to follow him out of the room and Sirius whispers, "She probably forgot to mention it to Snivellus. He looks pretty sour and pissed off."

"Don't even start, Siri," Harry cautions the man with a dark look.

"Best Christmas ever." Sirius turns his gaze on Lucius and asks in low tones, "So, now that you are a free man again...want to go on a date with this devilishly handsome wizard? I'll wine and dine you before pushing you over the nearest flat surface and fucking you blind."

"How can anyone resist a charmer like you," Lucius only gives a brusque reply, but his eyes are telling a different story. He is ready to take Sirius up on his offer as soon as they can get upstairs. "Have you been to Gringotts since being pardoned?"

"Yeah, but why is that suddenly important?"

"You need to get your Lordship rings from the Black Family vault. I will not be seen in public with you if you insist on not giving a damn about your House and status as its Lord."

Sirius grunts. "You don't fuck around, do you? Fine, I'll make an appointment first thing tomorrow if that pleases your demanding nature. You're such a snob, Luce."

"No, not tomorrow." Lucius shakes his head, his mouth curving into a sly smile. "You will be unavailable tomorrow. Unless you are not feeling well?"

"I'm feeling wonderful," Sirius is quick to say. "In fact, I'm feeling so well that I think I'd like to go upstairs right fucking now. Emphasis on the fucking part."

Harry doesn't have to think long and hard about the couple's intentions when they disappear. Luna's dreamy smile is pretty much a dead giveaway that they aren't going upstairs to sleep. She has really good hearing.